


Getting To Know Your Neighbours

by pseudoEternity



Series: ASOIAF-Prompts [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Panic Attack, Past Character Death, Pre-Slash, Somewhat Hopeful Ending, canon character death, possibly to be continued
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 01:56:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11453571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudoEternity/pseuds/pseudoEternity
Summary: Jon always thought that Rhaegar was the purpose of his existence, but now, eight years after he died, Jon might slowly start to open up to the world again.





	Getting To Know Your Neighbours

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first thing I ever upload here, hoo. Let me know what you think, if you've got the time.

Jon would lie through his teeth if he ever said that Rhaegar's death didn't rip him into a thousand tiny fucking pieces. Hell, he is still trying to pick them up and glue them together somehow even now, years later.

Rhaegar Targaryen was his one true love.

Or, that's what he always thought. Rhaegar was admittedly his first crush, first full-fledged crush that might just have turned into a lot of pining and unhappiness. So, yeah, not much happy associations with that time.

Except for those moments spent with Rhaegar only, when he would just look at Jon, his pale cheeks flushed from wine or exertion or whatever it was he was currently up to, a grin so wide it nearly split his face in two. Jon felt his heart skip a beat, or four. He found it hard to breathe. It was, as if his whole life skidded to a screeching halt, as if the purpose of his existence was all laid out in front of him.

It was this man. He was so convinced of that.

But then, Rhaegar died.

And, Jon didn't. He was heartbroken, didn't leave his flat for a week, didn't talk to anyone, didn't do anything. He wasn't prepared to let Rhaegar go. Rhaegar, the love of his life. Rhaegar, his best friend.

He suddenly realized he might be along for the rest of his life.

Okay, he hadn't really planned on living with Rhaegar. It would have been nice, but he knew where reality ended and imagination set in. And Rhaegar's marriage surely was real enough to remind him where exactly his hopes lay.

Still, the news about Rhaegar's death knocked the air out of him, and he still isn't sure if he can breathe in deeply now.

It's been eight years. Rhaegar's son, Aegon, turned nine last week. His caretaker, one of Elia's, Rhaegar's wife's, relatives, makes sure to send Jon a photo of his godson every few months. Jon sometimes even replies. Mostly he just takes a shuddering breath and carefully puts the picture away, trying not to shatter those few pieces he managed to put together again once more.

So, life isn't exactly easy, one could say.

His grief isn't fresh anymore, no-one asks him if he was okay these days. He can't blame them.

His colleagues avoid him and he's glad. His family doesn't try to contact him, but they weren't close before Rhaegar's death either. His neighbours don't care about him, and he doesn't care about them.

Jon prefers to wallow in his own little puddle of pain and unfulfilled hopes and dead dreams. There is no place for another person. None.

So of course he shouldn't be surprised when eventually someone starts pestering him.

No, that's a harsh way to put it. It's just that Jon wakes up one night, thinking there are sounds coming from the balcony. Did he forget to shut the door again?

He huffs, climbs out of his small, uncomfortable bed and makes his way over to the tall glass door. He hears the sound again. If he didn't know any better, he would say that there was someone having a panic attack on his balcony. But there is no-one on his balcony. He steps outside.

There is, in fact, someone on the balcony next to his. Is this his neighbour? He sure hopes so.

The man on the other balcony has dark hair, long, and is curled up into a ball as much as a quite tall, grown man can. His breathing is uneven, shallow, quick. Definitely hyperventilating.

Jon crouches down on his balcony so that his head is somewhere on the same level as that of his neighbour. He can make out the other's form through the grid that makes up the banister meant to stop someone from just falling down the three stores onto the road.

His years in the military kick in and he tries a steady voice: "Hey." The man's head whips around, his eyes boring into Jon's face. "I'm the neighbour. Listen to me." He tries a smile, but probably doesn't succeed. "Can you breathe with me? I won't let you alone."

Funny, how he says that even though he hasn't made an effort to connect to anyone for years, wanting to do just that, be left alone.

But he focuses on his neighbour, takes deep breaths, steadily, counts. Eventually, his neighbour's breath slows down and his posture isn't as cramped anymore.

The man slurs apologies and 'I should not have you let see this', obviously too exhausted to really put his heart into it after nearly freaking out on his balcony. Jon smiles through the banister without even realizing until it's too late.

"Don't worry. I'm glad I could help." He sucks in a deep breath. "Do you think you are able to sleep alone?" Because obviously, there is no-one in the flat with him right now, or else they would have surely appeared on the balcony by now, right?

The neighbour seems to think about it for a moment, then he finally heaves himself in an upright position, shoulders slouched. He really is tall. Jon stands up as well.

"I am okay", he says, "I will make it through the night. Thank you." He doesn't smile, but his face relaxes just the tiniest bit. "I'm Benjen, by the way."

Jon isn't sure if his neighbour, Benjen, is up for physical contact right now, so he makes a small wave with his hand, which is absolutely not awkward. "I'm Jon. Don't worry."

Then, something happens that Jon wouldn't have thought possible just a few hours ago. Benjen says, "You can come over for breakfast tomorrow, if you don't mind. Making up for you losing sleep and all that."

Jon accepts. He will meet up with someone outside of work at nine a.m. tomorrow, for the first time in eight long years.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
